The Lion of Senet (29 page)

Chapter 46

Kirsh sat himself down on the deck beside Dirk, as he was prompting the young thief through the painful process of sounding out each word of the child’s primer he had found for her in the Library on Elcast. She had mastered the alphabet, finally, and was working her way painstakingly through the simple text. Marqel stumbled, and then stopped reading completely, blushing under the prince’s scrutiny.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Kirsh told her brightly. “You’re doing very well.”

“I’m trying,” she assured him, with a coy smile.

“Very trying,” Dirk mumbled.

“Come on, Dirk! Have some patience with the poor girl! Learning anything new takes time. It’s like training horses. You have to be patient and kind to get any results.”

Dirk glanced at Marqel, wondering how she would react to being compared with a horse, but the thief only had eyes for Kirshov. The wind of their passage had mussed her thick blonde hair and her eyes were glowing as she stared at the prince.

“Well, since you’re such an authority, you can teach her,” he said, tossing the small leatherbound volume at Kirsh and climbing to his feet. “I have to go check on my patient, anyway.”

“How is he?”

“He’ll live.”

Kirsh glanced at Marqel, then grinned up at Dirk. “Off you go, then. I’ll look after Marqel.”

“Where’s Alenor?”

“In her cabin. She said something about a headache. Perhaps once you’ve tended the prisoner you should check in on her.”

“Perhaps I will.”

Once Kirsh turned his attention to Marqel, Dirk might as well have been invisible. With an exasperated curse, he made his way below to check on Johan.

The pirate’s condition had improved markedly since he’d been moved to the mate’s cabin, although the dislocated crew-men were understandably put out by the arrangement. When he arrived outside the door in the narrow passage, the guard on duty nodded a greeting and unlocked it for him. Dirk stepped inside and heard the lock turn behind him as the door closed.

Johan heard the lock, noticed Dirk’s questioning look and smiled. His color was vastly improved and his fever was gone, but he still moved stiffly—a result, no doubt, of the injuries he sustained in the tidal wave. “Antonov is probably afraid I’m going to leap off my sickbed, overwhelm you and that thug outside, then single-handedly steal his precious ship from under him.”

Dirk was getting used to Johan now. He always had some trite comment to make about his dire situation.

“Are you feeling well enough to leap off your sickbed, then?”

“If I say yes, do I get thrown back into that hole below?”

Dirk shook his head. “We’ll be in Avacas tomorrow. I don’t think he’d bother.”

“Nothing is ever too much bother for the Lion of Senet, Dirk. Not when it comes to the discomfort of his enemies.” Johan swung his legs over the bunk and sat up, but remained hunched over to avoid banging his head on the upper bunk. “Avacas. Tomorrow, you say?”

“According to Captain Clegg.”

“My, how time flies when you’re hoping for a miracle.”

“Is that what you’re truly hoping for?” Dirk asked curiously.

The pirate shrugged. “If there were going to be any miracles in my lifetime, Dirk, they would have been more convenient happening fifteen or twenty years ago. It’s a bit late now.”

“Won’t your friends try to rescue you, then?”

Johan studied him closely for a moment before he answered. “So this is Antonov’s ploy, is it? Send you here to tend and befriend me, then pump me for information?”

In truth, Dirk had not asked the question out of anything other than idle curiosity, but neither was he a practiced liar. He found himself unable to meet Johan’s accusing stare.

“You’re a typical Provin,” Johan snorted in contempt, interpreting Dirk’s silence as an admission of guilt. “Always at the beck and call of Senet. I don’t know why the hell Wallin didn’t just secede from Dhevyn after the war and declare himself subject to Avacas.”

“My father is a loyal Dhevynian,” Dirk snapped defensively. It felt strange, and rather uncomfortable, making that declaration to Johan Thorn. But Wallin
was
his father—legally, if nothing else—and Dirk planned to do everything humanly possible to avoid anybody ever learning that the truth was any different.

“Your father followed the ruler of another nation into battle against his king, Dirk. Before Antonov came along, we used to call that treason.”

“My mother followed you, though,” Dirk retorted. “Yet she’s the one everybody calls a traitor.”

Johan’s eyes narrowed. “You know about that, do you?”

Dirk shrugged. “Some of it.”
Please don’t say any more. I
really don’t want to hear the details about your sordid little affair
with my mother.

“Your mother understood what was at stake, Dirk.”

“Then why didn’t she stay with you?”

Johan shrugged, wincing at the movement. “She had a son on Elcast whom she never forgave herself for abandoning. A woman’s love for her children is a powerful thing.”

“More powerful than her belief in you?”

“Apparently.”

Dirk stared at him for a moment, then looked away. He didn’t want to get caught up in this, didn’t want to hear about it. The more he knew, the harder it would be to look Antonov in the eye, and Dirk was well aware of the danger should the Lion of Senet suspect his secret.

“I’ve brought you some more tonic,” he said, fishing the bottle out of his pocket.

“Ella made it up for you?” he asked with a raised brow.

“Yes.”

“Then perhaps you should try it first.”

“Do you think it’s poisoned?”

“If it came from Ella Geon’s hand, that’s a distinct possibility.”

He handed the vial to Johan. “Antonov said you and Ella had a feud.”

“Did he now? That’s one way of putting it, I suppose.” Johan took the glass vial, then unstoppered it, screwing his nose up at the smell.

“What did she do?”

“Who?”

“Ella Geon. What did she do to make you hate her so much?”

Johan took a swig of the tonic and then coughed painfully as it spilled down his throat. When the spasms had abated, he wiped his streaming eyes and looked at Dirk.

“Do you really want to know?”

“Drink it all. And I’m curious, that’s all.”

Johan appeared to debate the wisdom of telling him anything for some time before he answered.

“I had a friend once,” he said, finally. “Ella also pretended to be his friend . . . no, it was worse than that, she pretended to love him. And then, when she’d made him totally dependent on her, when she had him so deep in the grip of poppy-dust that he couldn’t even remember his own name, she bedded him for the sole purpose of getting a child from him. Then she handed him back to his enemies.”

Dirk was silent for a long moment. “What happened to your friend?”

“He killed himself.”

“And the child?”

Johan smiled. “Ah! Now that’s why Ella hates me. When I found out about the child I decided nobody deserved to be brought up by that heartless bitch. We raided the Hall of Shadows and took it from her. It was one of the few spectacular successes we’ve had since we were declared outlaws. I don’t think Antonov really considered us a threat until we defiled the Hall of his precious High Priestess.”

“What did you do with it? The child? You didn’t...”

The pirate laughed sourly. “No, Dirk, I didn’t kill the child. Where I come from, we don’t kill babies. I took her back to the Baenlands and raised Tia as my own daughter.” Johan smiled briefly, as if remembering the child fondly.

If you knew who I really was, would you smile with such pride
and affection when you remembered me?
he wondered silently.

“Does she know about her mother?”

“Of course she knows. Why?”

“No reason,” Dirk shrugged. “I suppose I was just wondering what it must be like to grow up knowing your mother had done something so terrible.”

Johan smiled knowingly. “You’d be the best one to ask about that, lad. Your mother is more notorious than Ella Geon ever was.”

“Perhaps, but I didn’t grow up knowing about it. Until you came along, I never even heard it whispered.”

“That’s your father’s doing. Wallin always was good at turning a blind eye to unpalatable truths.” He took another swig of the tonic, but this time managed to swallow it without coughing. “I’m sorry my appearance on your peaceful little island shattered the fairy-tale world you lived in, Dirk.”

Dirk snatched the vial from his hand. “Prince Antonov said to make sure I didn’t leave anything sharp lying around.”

“That’s because he knows how inconvenient my death would be. He’s taken great pains to ensure that I live to reach Avacas.”

“He wants to put you on trial.”

Johan laughed skeptically. “Do you really believe that?”

“What should I believe, then?”

“You can believe this much, Dirk Provin: given the means, I would end my life right now. Every moment I live and remain in Antonov’s custody makes it that much more dangerous for the people who depend on me. If I thought you had a modicum of compassion, I’d ask you to help me.”

“To help you die? We had this discussion already. I told you I couldn’t.”

“Actually, you told me you
wouldn’t
. It remains to be seen whether or not you could.”

“You’re insane. And I don’t really believe that you want to die.”

“How could you possibly know what I feel?”

Dirk hesitated for a moment. “I suppose I can’t. But isn’t dying just giving up?”

“Not when I think of the lives it will save. Do you know what will happen if Antonov finds out what I know? Do you have any concept of the suffering he’ll inflict on the people I love?”

“I have to go,” Dirk replied uncomfortably. This was getting out of hand.
First I find out he’s my father; now he wants me
to help him commit suicide
.

“Do you always do what Antonov orders?”

Dirk ignored the sarcastic comment. “I’ll be back later to give you another dose. After that, I don’t imagine I’ll see you again. We’ll be in Avacas by then and you’ll be handed over to the Prefect.”

“Well,
there’s
something to look forward to.”

Dirk turned and knocked for the guard to let him out.

“Tell me something before you go, Dirk.”

“What?” Dirk asked, looking over his shoulder.

“Why are you here? What’s so special about Wallin Provin’s second son that would make the Lion of Senet take him under his wing?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t lie to me. Of course you know.” Johan lay back down on the bunk and gingerly folded his arms behind his head. “What is it, Dirk Provin? Are you such a grand physician that he couldn’t bear to part with you?”

“I don’t know...”

“Or have you traded your position as an apprentice physician to become an apprentice tyrant?”

Dirk was beginning to lose patience. “I don’t know, I said!”

“Don’t snap at me, boy.”

“I’m sorry.” He shrugged, not sure why he felt the need to answer Thorn’s question. Perhaps he wanted the man to know he hadn’t been invited to Avacas because he was planning to follow in Antonov’s footsteps. Maybe Johan would be a little less disgusted with him if he understood Dirk had left Elcast to further his education. “I suppose . . . well, it might be because I’m good at mathematics.”

“How good?”

He looked away uncomfortably.

Johan eyed him suspiciously. “Extraordinarily good. That’s my guess. What was it you answered that first day you came to visit me? The square root of some huge number I picked at random?”

“What of it?”

The pirate closed his eyes for a moment. “Goddess, it never ends.”

“What never ends?”

He heard the key turning in the lock on the other side of the door. A moment later the guard opened it, glancing around the cabin suspiciously before motioning Dirk out.

“The cycle, Dirk,” Johan told him wearily, as Dirk stepped into the companionway.

Then as much to himself as to Dirk, he added, “Just when you think the danger is past, some freakish little bastard like you pops up and it starts all over again.”

Chapter 47

Reithan and Tia tied up the
Wanderer
at the Paislee docks and paid the Brotherhood to watch over her before making their way overland to Avacas. Tia often wondered where their loyalties truly lay—certain neither the Dhevynian Brotherhood nor their counterparts in Senet gave much consideration to what went on at court if it didn’t affect their criminal activities. It made dealing with them a very risky business. Mil’s only strength in trading with the Brotherhood was its position as the most prolific and reliable source of poppy-dust. Were it not for that, Tia was quite certain the Brotherhood would have betrayed them years ago.

The man from the Brotherhood who arranged the transaction gave Reithan a small metallic marker imprinted with the fox emblem of their society. He stressed several times that Reithan should be careful not to lose it, and assured them that without the marker, they would have no chance of reclaiming their boat. Reithan tucked the marker into his pocket, and with a final, wistful glance at his sailboat, left it in the dubious care of the Brotherhood.

Although it would have been quicker to sail straight to the capital, Paislee was the center of Brotherhood activity in Senet, and they were much less likely to attract either attention or trouble in the smaller port. There was quite a bit of commerce between Paislee and Mil. The Senetian nobility were just as anxious for a steady supply of illicit poppy-dust as the Dhevynians, and that gave them some small measure of protection. But Reithan warned Tia to be on her guard.
Safe
was a relative word in Senet. Linel and Hari had been arrested here.

They hitched a lift to Avacas with a cobbler who was heading for the city to visit his ailing mother. He was glad of the company and the added security their presence offered. A lone wagon was a ripe target. Three people stood a much better chance against attack than one not-very-courageous boot-maker.

The cobbler’s name was Fortlen, and other than his tendency to talk incessantly—from the moment he woke until he fell asleep by the campfire each evening—he was a tolerable traveling companion. After three days in the cobbler’s company, Reithan joked to Tia that the reason Fortlen was so willing to let them accompany him was his fear of having nobody to talk to, rather than his fear of attack. It also explained why nobody in Paislee had wanted to travel all the way to Avacas with the garrulous old man.

They parted company with Fortlen on the edge of Avacas twelve days after they left Paislee. Tia looked around her in awe as she stood beside Reithan on the side of the road. She had never seen anything like the Senetian capital. The day was overcast and warm, the heat intensified by the press of bodies in the streets. The slight rise of the land gave them a good view of the sprawling city that stretched away toward the coast. Tia had never imagined so many buildings could be so close together in one place.

She had tried hard not to gape when they had walked the streets of Kalarada, the capital of Dhevyn, but she had no hope of hiding her wonder in Avacas. Tia had never seen so many people in one place before, either. The entire population of Mil would have fitted in one crowded block of the Senetian city.

Reithan had been here before, though, and it was to the home of a friend that he led Tia. He pushed and shoved his way through the crowds with the ease of a man born and bred in a city.

“Is it market day?” she asked, side-stepping a grimy beggar who clutched at her leg as she passed.

“No, Avacas is always like this.”

She looked around, shaking her head in bewilderment. “But there are so many people!”

He smiled at her. “More people live in Avacas than live in the whole of Dhevyn.”

The news was something of a shock to Tia. It had not occurred to her until that moment that Dhevyn might have remained under the yoke of Senet because it truly wasn’t strong enough to take on the mainland kingdom. Perhaps Queen Rainan paid fealty to the Lion of Senet out of necessity after all—and not cowardice, as Tia believed.

“How far is it to your friend’s place?”

“He lives closer to the palace. He’s a corporal in Antonov’s guard.”

Tia stopped dead and stared at him. Reithan realized that she was no longer following, and turned to find out what had happened to her.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, walking back to where she stood unmoving in the center of the street. The busy populace flowed around her as if she were a rock in a rapid stream.

“You have friends in Antonov’s own guard?”

He took her arm and jerked her forward. “I have a lot of friends, Tia.”

“But—”

“But, nothing. I’d trust Ivon with my life. In fact, I have trusted him with it. On a number of occasions.”

“Does Johan know you have friends in Antonov’s guard?” she asked suspiciously.

“Of course he knows. Johan encouraged me to make contacts in Senet. He thought we might need them one day. Look, do you suppose we could discuss this somewhere a little less public?” He glanced around at the people moving past them. Some of them were staring curiously at the couple standing in the middle of the road, blocking traffic.

Tia let him pull her along the street. When Reithan said he had friends in Avacas, she had no idea he was planning to lead them into the heart of Antonov’s personal guard. The mere thought of speaking to a member of the feared Senetian Guard was enough to make her nervous, even if he was on their side.

“Reithan!” she called, looking for any reason to delay the meeting.

“What now?”

“Can we check the wharves first?”

“Why?”

“To see if Antonov’s ship has docked yet. If he’s not here, there doesn’t seem much point in hanging about Avacas, does there?”

Reithan thought it over for a moment, and then nodded. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. If he’s not returned from Elcast yet, I’d like to know when he’s expected. Anyway, Ivon might not be home at this time of day.”

“Let’s check the wharves then.”

Reithan led her in a different direction, again pushing and shoving through narrow, crowded streets that swarmed with people. The buildings were a haphazard mixture of styles: some were built of wood, others of granite or sandstone. Some were a mixture of both, with solid ground floors and flimsy upper stories, which looked as if they might fall over in the first decent quake. Occasionally, they passed by the ruin of a tumbled house. According to Reithan, the most recent quake of any force had been nearly fourteen years ago, although tremors were so common the population took little or no notice of them. The thought of earthquakes didn’t bother Tia. She had lived in the shadow of the Baenlands’s active volcanoes all her life. But the crowding in the city concerned her. Mil was laid out much more carefully than Avacas. They knew the paths of the lava flows and had built around them. In Mil, houses were constructed around a central foundation pillar that moved with the ground when it shook, and the caves were always a safe haven if the eruption looked particularly severe. Here, the buildings were built to suit the people, not the terrain, and there were far too many people.

She said as much to Reithan, who looked around him for a moment and then shrugged. “Avacas has been here for thousands of years, Tia. It might get shaken up a bit every now and then, but it’s never been completely destroyed.”

He led her down a narrow lane between a chandler’s shop and a tavern. When they emerged at the other end, they found themselves on the docks. The
Calliope
was tied up at the main wharf a little farther around the harbor.

Tia smiled for a moment when she saw it. Despite what she thought about the man who had commissioned her, the
Calliope
was a magnificent ship. They walked along the dock to where a small crowd had gathered to watch. The Lion of Senet was ashore already, Tia guessed. There were no Shadowdancers in sight, either, which meant Tia wasn’t likely to catch a glimpse of Ella Geon. Nor was there a guard of honor waiting, only a mounted groom holding a single horse. The crowd would be much larger if the prince was preparing to disembark. These were just idle onlookers.

“Look!” Reithan said, in a low, urgent voice. The man who had drawn Reithan’s attention stood on the deck surrounded by guards, waiting to descend the gangway. He was chained and gaunt, bearded and pale, and he leaned on a roughly fashioned crutch. But it was unmistakably Johan Thorn.

“Look at him! He’s been hurt!”

“I’m more surprised to find him standing,” Reithan answered.

“Can we get to him, do you think?” Her heart began to beat faster. It didn’t seem possible that he could just be standing there, almost in arm’s reach, but they couldn’t do anything. She noted the placement of the guards with a practiced eye, hoping for an opportunity.

Reithan looked at her askance. “Look around, Tia. There are a dozen guards with him on the ship, and they’re probably waiting for an escort from the palace. Between us, we have a sword and two table daggers. I could probably take three or four of them. Were
you
planning to take care of the rest?”

“But he’s so close!” she hissed in frustration. It was all she could do not to call out to Johan, to give him hope; to offer some reassurance that they would try to help him.

“He might as well be on the other side of the second sun, right now. The important thing is that we’ve seen him. He’s alive and he’s in one piece. We can make our plans once we’ve spoken to Ivon.”

“I feel so helpless!”

“That’s probably because right now we
are
helpless.”

Tia nodded glumly in agreement. She knew Reithan was right, but that didn’t make it any easier to stomach. She watched Johan, his eyes downcast, standing on the deck surrounded by alert guards, and tried to think of a way to help him. There was none, of course, but that just made her even more determined.

“Who’s that?” she asked Reithan, pointing to a young man who approached the guards around Johan. Merely by the quality of his clothes, she could tell he was noble born.
He carries
himself with the assurance of one born to rule, too,
Tia thought sourly. She knew that unconscious stance well. Growing up around Johan, she’d seen it every day of her life. The young lord said something to the guards and they parted with a slight bow, deferring to his command. “Is that one of Antonov’s sons?”

Reithan squinted a little and stared at the boy, before turning to her with a shrug. “I don’t know who he is.”

Tia studied him carefully. He was a lanky, dark-haired young man. He said something to Johan, which caused the pirate to smile, then turned and walked away. He descended the gangway, where the groom was waiting, sitting astride a gray mare, holding the reins of the other riderless horse. The young lord took the reins from the groom and swung into the saddle. Then he turned and headed away from the ship without looking back. As he rode past Tia, she noticed that his eyes were the color of dull steel.

And as cold as steel, too,
she decided, disliking him on sight.

“He’s probably one of Antonov’s pets,” Reithan remarked as the young lord rode by.

“What do you mean?”

“Antonov is fond of taking the sons of Dhevynian nobles into his home and treating them like royalty. By the time he sends them back to their own islands, they’re so devoted to him, it wouldn’t matter what Rainan did, she could never count on their loyalty.”

“Which island is he from, do you think?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think he’s from Elcast?”

“He looks too young to be Wallin Provin’s heir. Maybe he’s the younger Rill boy. He’s been living on Elcast ever since his father was appointed governor there.” Reithan shrugged, turning his attention back to the ship. “Or it might be the second son. The one Morna had after she went back to Wallin.”

“The traitor’s whelp. That figures. Anyway, what does it matter?”

“It might,” Reithan said thoughtfully. “The guards didn’t stop him talking to Johan.”

Tia stared at him and shook her head. “You think he’d help
us
? Wallin
Provin’s
son?”

“I suppose not. But he’s Morna’s son, too.”

“The boy has been brought to Avacas by Antonov Latanya, Reithan. If what you say is true, by the end of the week he’ll be swearing his sword to Senet.” She watched with a frown as the young lord and his groom disappeared from view, swallowed by the crowd along the wharves. “If he hasn’t already.”

“Aye, it’s unlikely there’ll be aid from that quarter,” Reithan agreed. “Come on, let’s go investigate that tavern we passed earlier. I could do with an ale.”

“But what about Johan? Shouldn’t we follow him or something?”

“He’s not going anywhere but the palace.”

“But how will we know for certain?”

“Ivon will know.”

With a final, hopeful glance at Johan, she reluctantly nodded. Despite her efforts to will the pirate to look in her direction, he didn’t look up. With a sigh, she followed Reithan back along the wharf toward a large tavern called the Watchkeeper’s Dog.

Just as they reached the tavern doors, a closed-in carriage trundled down the wharf, surrounded by a full squad of soldiers wearing the gold-and-white rampant lion crest of Senet. The carriage pulled up at the foot of the
Calliope
’s gangway and Johan was hauled down to the wharf and bundled into the carriage with little ceremony.

“One thing bothers me a little, Tia.”

“What’s that?”

“Antonov has been hunting Johan for years. You’d think now that he finally has him, he’d make a bit more of a fuss.”

“You mean, where are the jeering crowds? The triumphal procession through the streets of Avacas with the dread pirate locked in a cage for all the world to gawk at?”

“Something like that.”

Tia shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Neither do I, and until we figure out what game Antonov’s playing, I think we should be cautious.”

“As opposed to what?” Tia asked, as she stepped past Reithan into the gloom of the tavern’s taproom.